Grunge is Dead
by Pollux Unbound
Summary: Rukawa leaves Hanamichi for Mitsui and gets what he deserves, a broken heart. Oneshot. Yaoi. This sucks big time.
1. Chapter 1

Disclaimer: I don't own Slam Dunk; Takehiko Inoue does.

A/N: Pardon me for the grammatical errors. This fic is done, I just had to divide it in two chapters because it's too long. Enjoy reading.

It all began in my first year in senior high. I entered the basketball club to come face to face with my match. Of course, who would've thought someone such as I could mark him as my equal? To start with, he was taller than me and that was all. Apart from not knowing a single thing about basketball, he was an idiot in every respect. In spite of these demerits, he joined the club anyway. Against the expectations of everyone who had a right to say anything about his situation, after three months of playing, no one could've said that basketball was something new to him. As for my reception to this peculiar twist of fate, I never knew anyone at school who was not acquainted with the fact that the animosity we had for each other could equal that of Jupiter and Pluto.

And no one in his right mind would've thought we'd end up together.

Upon graduating from senior high, we went our separate ways; he went to a university in Osaka and I to Tokyo. Living worlds apart, we would still see each other twice a week and managed to sneak in private hours amidst our rough schedule. That went on for three weeks.

The story started one day when I was on my way to school. It was when someone tapped on my shoulder that unpredictable events would find their way to me soon afterwards.

"Alright, Rukawa?"

It was Hisashi Mitsui. I was mildly ambushed, because I never got to talk to anyone in class for all the time I've been attending college till then, unless you count the times I asked a classmate which pages to study for the following day's exams. In short, interaction was something I hadn't by then fully mastered.

"Er, hi."

"Still not the talkative type, huh?" He observed. His smile, if anything, was sincere. Having been his team-mate for a year, I had taken Mitsui to be not the type who would wish anyone good health; he was more casual than that.

"I'm okay." I said, trying to sound cool. If truth be told, I was still immersed in the solitude of living alone in a one-bedroom pad and seeing Hanamichi only once or twice a week.

"Not a good day I suppose. Well, I've been trying to reach you since last week; I heard from a friend that Rukawa Kaede goes to the same school that we go to. And you do know what this means." He said and smiled shrewdly.

" When's the try-out?" I asked immediately.

"Come on, you know you don't have to attend the try-out. I'm vice-captain. First practice will be tomorrow at 7. See you there. And don't tell me you're not planning to enter the club, with that new gym bag and the talent packed inside it. It would be more likely for me to think that Hanamichi managed to snatch a seat in Tokyo University than to see your face among the spectators of tomorrow's practice." He winked at me and disappeared before I could ask another thing.

We had college algebra and English that afternoon. As there was a fine line between failing and passing college subjects, I devoted myself to studying more than I did in high school. Whether I would be good enough or still short of the passing mark, I didn't care. For my part, at least I tried, and that alone rendered my hard work worth noting. And in a very broad sense, it would just make me learn more about life. Like, education is for fools who think that knowledge is the key to life, for people who were given no other choice but to bury their heads in books rather than be out there and have their shots.

The practice took place at 7pm the next day, just as Mitsui said. I entered the gym silently as everyone turned to see who had just arrived. Excited whispers fluttered over me.

"Ah, here he is." Mitsui announced loudly, as if something like that was necessary. He welcomed me with warmth similar to that which went with being introduced to the mayor. I was expecting something like "Talk of the devil" from him.

He had indeed changed a lot over two years. "Is this what college does to kids?" I asked myself. Even so, I wasn't at all disturbed by this behavior; on the contrary, I liked this Mitsui better. In time, he turned to his teammates,

"This, my friends and teammates, is Rukawa Kaede, _the_ Rukawa Kaede." Mitsui said, stressing the word 'the', to which every team member nodded in acknowledgement. He introduced the team members and I had to nod back at each of them with every mentioned name.

I prayed that this awkward moment would just evaporate immediately. Thankfully enough, Mitsui saved the moment,

"Shall we practice then?" He asked. Oddly though, it sounded more like he was asking me to dance because he held his hand to help me with my gym bag and schoolbag.

Practice wasn't bad at all, I had to admit. It came to pass in my mind that college guys played much better than high school kids in a very vast extent. They moved with impressive fluidity and speed, the sort which made me feel like I was one of the team's reserves at first. Well, being the pompous prick that I was, I wasn't about to allow that. As ostensive as I could, I played with the limits of my breath so that, by the time the game ended, everyone was ogling at me like an idiot, except Mitsui.

He said goodbye to everyone while I was still fixing my things. I thought it was a collective expression of farewell meant for all the members of the team but as he passed me by,

"You did well tonight. I mean, you're like a new part of this team that 'upgrades' everyone's performance. I'm so glad you joined the team; no, I'm so glad you entered this school." He tapped me on the shoulder and gripped it tightly for a second, and finally turned to leave.

I would go to practice thrice a week and would always find Mitsui waiting for me outside my classroom.

It was, as you might imagine, an odd feeling to walk silently down the corridors with him. Also, knowing he would take two extra flights of stairs just to make sure I'd attend practice, I was given a feeling I never normally would have entertained. Or was he just doing it to spend a few minutes with me? I didn't know.

The last practice of the week was no more than basic training. No other freshman made it to the team, as I had heard. But those who tried out and failed would probably feel satisfied if they were watching us right then and there passing the bored ball to one another.

The end of practice, however, didn't offer me relief. Mitsui left the gym hurriedly. As I watched him leave the gym skipping his steps to join a girl at the doors, my heart sank. He used to say goodbye to me privately and would praise my game more cheerfully than necessary but, that night, he just said a single 'goodbye' loudly, and that was for all of his teammates. All those weeks I didn't know he was dating someone else, and wished I hadn't known.

I made my way to my apartment, feeling like a walking blender mixing strange concoctions of different liquors. Three weeks had passed since I joined the team. In line with that, it had been two weeks since I started making excuses not to see Hanamichi, whereby nothing of this sort would have transpired had I been not so confused by Mitsui-sempai.

Way down inside, I never truly accepted the reasons I had for such actions. On the contrary, I convinced myself I was doing such things for no grave reason.

I was, in point of fact, falling for Mitsui and was hoping to cut ties with Hanamichi. It was as easy as saying it to his face if self-respect was of no consequence to this world whatsoever. But besides that task, there was the fact which simply suggested Mitsui would never be mine. From what I gathered, he had transformed into a real gentleman, who was receiving good grades and dating women. Thus, what could I give him that would even make him more of a man than he already was?

In some other lifetime, he could wait for me outside my classroom before practice sessions and be the marvel that he was without raising any special thoughts from me. But the reality was, he would sit with me during lunch and tell me jokes I could've openly laughed with if it wouldn't seem odd to him that Rukawa Kaede was actually laughing out loudly; he would tap my back or put an arm around my shoulder whenever I made a good shot, an intimate contact that he never shared with other teammates; he would say goodbye to me personally, even privately, after every practice; and above all, he would decently smile every time our eyes met; he would ask me to sit beside him or save me a seat during meetings and would give me a clearer version of the captain's strategy afterwards. With the way things actually were, his enthusiasm whenever I was around often left me ecstatic, if not confused.

TBC


	2. Chapter 2

Disclaimer: I do not own Slam Dunk, Takehiko Inoue does.

A/N: Pardon me for the grammatical errors. Thank you for the reviews.

I resolved to end my relationship with Hanamichi after two days of enduring restless nights. It was a dirty job, as we both knew only too well. He took it difficultly.

Weeks passed in a continuous pace. In like manner, Mitsui would draw me to him without realizing it. It was as though I couldn't care less if he would meet with his girlfriend after practice. However, every time I saw them held hands annoyance would strike me dumb.

"Ever dated anyone lately?" Mitsui asked me one day during lunch.

"No."

"You should try. I know a lot of girls who would crawl on the ground just to say 'hi' to you. Their efforts should pay off, you know."

"Hm."

"Anyway, you wouldn't mind if I tell you something personal, would you? I'm talking to you with respects to your standards, no offense. Anyway, I wish to tell you, you have to be more interactive. I suspect you never got close to having anyone in Shohoku as your friend, so it's high time you scratch the old you." Mitsui advised.

"Hm."

"I can tell you a lot of crazy things about college and my life or someone else's and you may as well consider them personal. But to me, they would just be the usual story I'd tell my friends every day. I'm this concerned because, to be blunt, the way you mingle with others is nothing more than casual chitchats. That means your judgments about social matters need modification."

"Hn."

"Here goes; it's kinda not-your-type-of-topic so you'll just have to adjust a little." He took a deep breath and, "You know, I'm dating this girl from my class. I'll be honest with you and you only; I'm only putting up with her 'cos she's doin' an enormous part of my paper work, my thesis. I know it's wrong but I have no choice but to leave it to her. Now it's almost done, I want to end it…with her, that is. The problem is how to do it?"

I stared at him for a while with the slightest expression that what he said struck me as disconcerting. If he were talking to a more sophisticated person, disgust was what he was sure to get.

"Just tell her then"

"How?"

"Tell her you've grown tired of her and that you don't need her anymore." I said flatly.

"Didn't expect you'd suggest anything. You've grown, you know. You may not have noticed but you have." Mitsui replied, apparently impressed by the fact that I was social enough to take what he said into serious consideration. He continued, "However, that's not how you treat a girl…"

"What else do you have in mind then? It all goes down to one thing: it's over."

"Well, yeah, good point."

He joined me again during lunch the next day.

"I've done it, dumped her. It was sad; she was crying all over. I could have sympathized but her acceptance was the last thing that would be between us. And this is all because I listened to you. Thanks" He beamed at me.

"Hn"

Practice ended at 9pm. Sempai left the gym before I did. I finished fixing my things and walked faster than usual to catch up with him. And there he was, walking alone, whistling to himself.

"Sempai."

He turned to look.

"Oh, going home already?"

I nodded in response. Before I knew it, I was walking beside him.

"Practice went well, didn't it?" he started.

No words came out of my mouth. Nevertheless, we walked silently as we always did, not without any special expectation out of this boring activity, except that I was waiting for the right moment for the words to come out of my mouth. In time, it seemed as though my mouth sprang to life on its own,

"I have to tell you…"

"Tell me what?" he asked nonchalantly.

"I-I've been agonizing over telling you, been feeling like I'm gonna practically explode if I don't…"

"What?"

"…tell you. I don't know. I'm not expecting you to react or do anything about it but if I tell you right now, I'm more than sure you won't talk to me ever again."

"Why not?" he asked with a deeply perplexed expression on his face.

"I can't stop thinking about you. When I wake up, thoughts of you greet me in the morning and that goes on all day long. You. It's all you in my head. You always smile at me as if it was nothing. If only you knew what that poisonous smile would require my mind just to have a small clearing…you wait for me outside my class as if I can't find my own way to the gym. You sit with me during lunch time when you obviously can have more fun hanging out with your popular friends. You praise my game as though those lay-ups I pull up every night are worth exalting like an actual levitation, when I used to do that every time at Shohoku effortlessly. And lastly why, why do you have to be so nice and at the same time infectious? You think you can just come to me and be intimate, almost affectionate, all the time and expect no impact from it all? And don't tell me that that's just being friendly. If so, you would do better with reshaping your impaired, disfigured thinking by toasting your brain like cashew nuts. There, that's all I've got to say. You may throw up now; there's a trash bin over there." I said, pointing my shaking finger to a trash can.

I stood there, waiting for him to speak. But then it was as good as waiting for fireworks to light up the purple sky, celebrating the year 3090. He turned his head away and slowly, his torso followed. His left foot turned to its heel and his right foot lifted to take the first of the 800 steps he took just to get away from this madman who was insane enough to proclaim his love beneath the starless night sky. I didn't get a glimpse of his eyes to give me hints about how he deeply took it.

I walked alone again for the hundredth time. I looked up the sky and realized it wasn't starless at all; it was all in my head, just as what Mitsui's evident interests in me had been all along. That was me and my disillusioned head.

With two wrong decisions in one year, I was lucky to still feel alive.

Yet he continued to wait for me outside my classroom during practice days. He never stopped sitting with me during lunch nor did he stop saving me a seat whenever I was late for team meetings. I never responded to any of these, after taking risks just to mess up things for myself again. No, I wouldn't do that-not when I was left with almost nothing. But come to think of it, there was nothing to risk nor was there anything to lose. And I never solved the puzzle as to why Mitsui never stopped treating me like some fragile chinaware. If he held for me any attraction which he couldn't disperse, he was very successful in making me feel so.

...

One fateful day,

"Kitsune, care for coffee?" It was Hanamichi.

"…"

"It wouldn't hurt, would it?" He said with a pleasant grin.

"S-Sure…okay." I smiled nervously.

Grunge wasn't dead after all.

END


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